Overloaded
by Andromeda Prime
Summary: The Lord High Protector had expected Optimus to burst out crying, but instead the Prime was purring contentedly and lay limp in his arms. Rated M for mechpreg, birth, slash, and overloading while giving birth. Oops. Mostly crack, and prompted by the lovely Jeegoo. COMPLETE.


Jeegoo** prompted this a few days ago on our group chat with **eiseedoesit **and **cousinswar, **and it just completely enveloped my soul. You're an enabler, **Jee **:P**

**This blends some elements of Bayverse and Prime. There's no definite universe that it's set in, so this is a wild AU. Have fun :3**

.-.-.

As he listened to the pained cries of his mate, Megatron wished he could have done more to help out. Of course, he couldn't say so out loud. The last time he had done so was only a short while ago, when the pangs of labor began, and upon saying that he wished he could help, Optimus turned wild and pained optics towards him and shouted at the top of his vocals, "HELP?! YOU COULD HAVE HELPED BY OFFERING TO CARRY OUR PITSPAWN!"

No. He was not eager to have his audios short-circuited again.

At present, he was seated on the berth, his mate's backplating to his chassis, and gently rubbing his servos up and down his mate's arms and murmuring words of encouragement.

"Ratchet," Optimus rasped out, his helm falling backwards onto his mate's shoulder and sighing in exasperation as this last contraction ebbed away, "how much longer?"

The medic took only a few moments to answer. "The sparkling has yet to make its descent into the emergence channel, and you are only fifty-eight percent dilated, nowhere near large enough for a sparkling's helm to fit through."

Optimus's entire frame vibrated as he growled in irritation. He turned his helm to his left, towards the silver mech holding him, and glared at him, blue optics glaring into red ones. "I will kill you when this is over."

Megatron knew that it was the pain of birthing a sparkling talking. But it didn't do very much to comfort him. The fear must have shown in his optics, as his mate and the Prime of Cybertron let out a raspy laugh and continued, "I will have Ratchet reformat you into a trash compactor and I will use you to dispose of our sparkling's torn blankets."

"Now, now Optimus," Ratchet chuckled, though he didn't find the idea of reformatting the sometimes smug Lord High Protector of Cybertron to be all that horrible. "If I did that, your sparkling would grow up without both parents, and you would have to raise the sparkling all by yourself. I'm certain you wouldn't want that, would you?"

Optimus only groaned in frustration and closed his optics.

Megatron chuckled lightly and leaned over to kiss his mate's lipplates.

.-.-.

"When the next one begins I'm going to need you to push with everything you've got Optimus, do you understand?"

The Prime nodded and screamed in agony as he pushed down. He felt the sparkling move and kick, but the little one didn't descend into the emergence channel. His keen died down to a tortured groan, feeling the sparkling squirm in their bid to be free.

_Find the emergence channel, please_.

His mate was right behind him, large silver servos on his arms and gently running up and down. Megatron leaned forward and brushed his lipplates over the Prime's audios, whispering, "I'm so lucky to have you, Optimus. You're an incredible mate, and you will be an incredible parent to our sparkling. You look beautiful, my mate."

Optimus vented harsh laughs and closed his optics, groaning in pain. "You flatter me. I look and feel like slag, and I've half a mind to rip your spike off and shove it down your intake so I never have to endure this again."

Megatron only chuckled and said, "And you will never have to. I feel one is enough."

The Prime responded with as enthusiastic a nod as he could muster. How he so wanted to slump against his mate and take a long nap, but he could not do so, not with a sparkling about to exit his frame and his entire body wracked with painful contractions.

"The sparkling's not budging?"

Optimus shook his helm and rasped out a groan. A moment later, the next contraction hit. This time, the sparkling moved to the entrance of the emergence channel.

"Ah, there now!" Ratchet laughed. "Progress! Keep pushing, Optimus, everything that you've got!"

The cables in Optimus's legs tensed, and he clutched at his mate's armor and servos, denting it, as he screeched and leaned forward. The cables in his abdomen tensed as he bore down, forcing the sparkling further along the channel. He groaned and gasped, going limp against his mate.

"I can see the sparkling's helm, Optimus! Just one more push, get at least the shoulders out, and I can help the sparkling out."

Optimus nodded. Not many moments later, his frame was tortured with another contraction. He leaned forward, and pushed, opening his mouth and venting harshly.

Instead of the final, tortured cry that Megatron had been expecting, he heard a scream. To the casual onlooker and listener it may have seemed like the pained cry that one would expect with emergence, but he had shoved his spike into Optimus many times before to know that this was not pain.

It was the furthest thing from that.

The Prime's frame slumped backwards onto Megatron's front, overworked and venting harshly. The Lord High Protector wrapped his arms around his mate's front and held him close, feeling the Prime purring in his embrace and watching with wide optics as Ratchet lifted a small, wet mass up to the air. The sparkling's limbs twitched and jerked, unused to such liberation and freedom of movement. Tiny lipplates shifted, a small chassis rose and fell as a loud cry pierced the air.

The Lord High Protector had expected Optimus to burst out crying and hold out his arms while blabbering on about the precious little life he had just pushed out of the lower regions of his frame, but instead, the Prime was purring contentedly and lay limp in his arms.

"Optimus?" Megatron whispered into his mate's audio, arching an optic ridge at the Prime. The red and blue mech's engine continued purring for another moment, and his faceplates had this all too familiar smile on them. He whispered his name into his audio again. Optimus then gave a low moan and reopened optics that neither had known had been shut. His optics were glazed over as he slowly held his arms out in a wordless plea to hold his sparkling.

Ratchet cleaned the sparkling of the fluids that coated their frame and coaxed the little one's chassis open. They heard the distinctive _click! _of the chassis parting, and golden light filtered out and shone on the medic's faceplates. Chuckling, the medic transferred the sparkling to the Prime's outstretched arms and said, "You've got a perfectly healthy little femme."

Optimus took the sparkling into his arms and let out a soft, "Ohhh," at the weight in his arms. He brought the sparkling to his chassis and looked down at the little femme, whose cry had died down to a soft whimper. Bright blue optics, still unable to focus and form a decent image, stared up at him. A miniscule servo clenched and unclenched.

"Hi little one. I'm your carrier," the Prime whispered, smiling in a daze as he ran a gentle digit over the sparkling's helm and then offered it to her. The mech gave a choked sob of joy and relief when she reached her tiny servo out and wrapped it around his digit. "Hi! You're so beautiful and precious, little one." He brought her to his faceplates and sobbed, kissing her on her forehelm and whispering, "You're so precious and perfect, and you're mine and my mate's little one."

_He's babbling. I assume I would as well, were I in his position_, Megatron thought as he smiled down at the mech crying over the little femme. He reached over and caressed the little femme's helm with his large servo. She was so tiny, tiny and perfect. His spark felt as if it were going to burst with joy. He couldn't imagine how his mate felt.

Speaking of his mate, Optimus's engine was still purring. It was beginning to worry the Lord High Protector. Megatron looked up and arched an optic ridge at Ratchet, who was busy inputting the sparkling's information in a datapad, and opened a private communication channel.

::Ratchet, Optimus is still purring and he is acting as if…as if-::

::As if you both just had an intense interfacing session?::

::Yes! B-but, we-we didn't, we couldn't-::

Megatron saw the medic smirk and shake his helm. What he said next stunned him. ::He overloaded::

In hindsight, the Lord High Protector should have guessed...but the thought of it was…

::The stress of birth and the stimulation of the sparkling exiting the emergence channel set him into an overload. It happens a lot more often than what you would expect. He doesn't know what just happened, his processor is in about a thousand different places, and one side of him is still coming down from that high he got from overloading and the other is busying himself with tending to the sparkling::

::So he does not know that…::

::No, he doesn't:: Ratchet sniggered softly and shook his helm, turning back to the datapad.

He didn't know what to say. So he just nodded at the medic, optics widened in shock, and looked down at the limp and vibrating frame in his arms. The Prime was too enraptured by the little sparkling sleeping so peacefully in his arms to notice much else. He cooed contentedly at the tiny femme, his optics softened and his faceplates streaked with happy tears.

Megatron would tell him about it later. For now, he just let his mate enjoy this moment.

.-.-.

Optimus had fallen asleep not long after Ratchet had smirked and told Megatron what had really happened. The Lord High Protector held onto his mate with one arm and cradled the little femme in his other arm, cooing at her. She was wide awake, bright blue optics staring at him, and tiny chubby servos waving and clenching and unclenching, doing all these things that seemed so mundane to him, but now they were incredible.

He'd had a part in making her. The mech next to him, getting a much-needed and deserved recharge, had carried her, created her, built her within his frame as he retched each morning and as his midsection grew and as he grew more and more exhausted.

"Do you know how special you are, little one?"

The femme stared dully at him and blinked.

Megatron smiled and brought her closer to his faceplates, pressed his lipplates to her cheekplating. "You are a special sparkling. The first and only child of the Prime and the Lord High Protector of Cybertron. You will have an empire to rule one day, but for now," he gently turned and placed the femmeling on Optimus's chassis, maneuvering the Prime's arms to secure the sparkling, "you are a newspark, meant to be cradled against the loving chassis of your carrier and in the strong arms of your sire."

The femmeling chirped softly, tiny servos kneading against her carrier's chassis, and she opened her mouth and yawned. Optimus's optics fluttered open, and he focused his optics on the sparkling on his chassis and in his arms. A wide smile broke out across his faceplates. "Hey, little one," he whispered. "Hey."

She yawned and closed her optics, falling into a deep recharge. Optimus's smile grew even wider (Megatron did not know that it was possible), and he rested his helm against his mate, blue optics darting up. "We need a name for her."

"Did you have any in mind?"

Optimus's smile slacked off for a few moments before it grew again. Megatron knew before the prime said anything. "Andromeda. After the Warrior."

"A suitable name for a little femme."

"So you approve?"

"Even if I did not," Megatron shifted his frame on the berth so he held his mate closer, "you are the one that carried her, suffered through emergence, overloaded when she made her grand entrance, so you get to decide on her designation."

Optimus raised a servo to his mate's faceplates and gave him a tired smile, then looked back down at the femme in his arms. "Then your name shall be Andromeda. Daughter of the Lord High Protector Megatron, and Optimus Prime of Cyber – wait." He looked back up at his mate, an optic ridge arched. "Did you say "overloaded"?"

Megatron smirked and nodded. "When you gave that final push and she entered this world screaming, I may add."

He would likely never see this amount of embarrassment on his mate's faceplates again.

This was going to be so fun.

.-.-.

"Sire! Can you tell me a story?"

"Of course, Andromeda. What would you like to hear?"

"I wanna hear about how I was born!"

"Well, one night your carrier woke up with you kicking his intakes. He then kicked me and told me that you were ready to emerge, so I carried him to Ratchet's medical bay – you do know Ratchet, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's carrier?"

"Yeah!"

"Well, I took him to Ratchet's medical bay. After much pushing and yelling, and cursing at me for doing this to him, you were born screaming and wanting to be back in the warmth of your carrier's frame."

"Were you happy when I was born?"

"Of course we were. We and all of Cybertron celebrated, the child of the Lord High Protector and the Prime, born at last. Your carrier, however, was far happier than most."

Something fell in the office next door to the master berthroom. Megatron looked up from the deep blue and violet seekerling seated in his lap to find Optimus standing in the doorway between the berthroom and the opulent office, optics widened in mortification. Behind him was a broken datapad.

"Stop bringing that up, Megatron! It was a perfectly normal reaction, and Ratchet even told us it was!"

"I haven't the faintest clue as to what you're talking about, Optimus," Megatron smirked as he gathered a confused and sleepy Andromeda in his arms and carried her off to her berthroom across the hall. He tucked her in and kissed her good night, internally chuckling at the curses and threats coming from his sparkbond with his mate, something about sleeping with the scraplets.

Oh, it was _very_ fun indeed.


End file.
